


Rise and Fall

by imaginary_iby



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Episode Tag, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-06-10 08:53:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6949477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginary_iby/pseuds/imaginary_iby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three months after crash-landing on Waikiki beach, Steve and Danny are headed to Jersey, kids in tow.  Everything is going fine until the plane hits turbulence, and suddenly Danny feels like he's back in that little Cessna, Steve slowly dying right beside him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rise and Fall

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Вверх и вниз](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7546999) by [cicada](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cicada/pseuds/cicada)



In retrospect, Danny probably should’ve seen it coming. An Airbus A330 is different to a little Cessna, but the general mechanics of it are the same: noisy metal contraption, hurtling through the sky in a way no human being was ever meant to be hurtled.

He should've seen it coming, but he's been so damn busy. Mindless paperwork to fill out, endless calls from family to field. Two children to raise. A liver to regrow, and a partner constantly in need of slowing down, in order to regrow his own. 

By the time he’s boarding a flight to Jersey, three months after the crash, he’s just so glad that Steve found his wallet (under the seat in the truck) and so relieved they found Charlie’s beloved Mr. Blankie (left behind on Mamo’s bus) that he doesn’t even have time to think: _fuck, I’m on a fucking plane, fuck this fucking fuck._

No. That comes about halfway through the flight, when turbulence hits. It jolts him sideways, knocking his elbow against the curved plane wall. It must jolt his heart sideways too, because it definitely doesn’t feel like it’s still in his chest. 

He gasps, and Steve - Steve, who has slept through most of the flight - blinks his eyes open. “Y’right?” he asks, voice rough from plane air and sleep.

Danny nods, keeping his mouth shut, because Charlie and Grace are sitting in the row in front and he doesn’t want to scare them. He doesn’t want to talk about propellers giving out, alarms going off; he doesn’t want to talk about crashing towards the water, a trail of fuel the only sign he was ever there, until even that fell and floated away. He doesn’t want to talk about blood pooling on the cockpit floor; about life-force leaving the body and escaping through bullet holes in windows.

He doesn’t even want to _think_ about it, so he nods, and blinks to clear away the beginnings of tears. 

Warm fingers brush against his side, a questioning touch. “Hey?” Steve asks.

“Just. Y’know.” Danny jerks his chin, as if to indicate anything and everything. Oh god, his kids, how could he have let his kids on this deathtrap.

“Hey,” Steve says again, almost croons. “Hey.” He tries to twist in his seat, and Danny feels an incredible rush of affection when all six feet of his partner gets tangled in blankets and backpack straps. 

“You really weren’t designed for coach, were you,” he says, sniffling, taking heart when Steve huffs dramatically. Eventually Steve works himself free, lifting his blanket invitingly. Danny nestles in like a moth to the flame, pressing his nose to the vee of Steve’s shirt and breathing deeply. So warm and alive.

The plane jolts again, eliciting a chorus of wailing babies, and Danny flinches, presses deeper into Steve's warmth. The seatbelt signs flick on, the captain instructing passengers to return to their seats. Danny can't help but feel exposed, as if all eyes are turned to him. Seeming to sense this, Steve shifts further, the sheer size of him bracketing Danny into the safety of their little nook.

“I’m okay,” Danny says gruffly, but Steve swallows the words with a kiss.

“ _I’m_ okay,” Steve responds. “We’re not back there.”

“I know that,” Danny snaps, because what does Steve know, he wasn't even conscious for most of it, oh god, oh-

“-Listen to me,” Steve says, and guides Danny’s hands to his stomach. “I’m okay. Feel.” His eyelashes sweep down, a sleepy indulgent expression settling onto his face. They’ve done this many times, stood naked before each other, inspecting every inch - but in the privacy of their bedroom, not on some jolting plane with a hundred exhausted passengers and his kids barely two feet away.

“Steve,” Danny protests, but then his fingers land on a scar. One of many, newer than the rest. Danny smoothes his thumb over the precious skin. All stitched back together.

“We’re gonna” -- Steve breaks off to yawn, a lion’s yawn, all teeth and tonsils, and Danny only thinks fondly: _you animal_ \-- “we’re gonna sleep, we’re gonna be in Jersey, there’s gonna be lasagna and snow and I’m gonna be ten feet taller than all your relatives. Your mom’s gonna tut at me because I stole half your liver.”

Danny nods, because this is true.

“I’ll meet your sisters...” Steve is drifting, running out of steam. He’s been so tired lately, and Danny’s heart aches with the need to see him well again. “And... and... we can take the kids to see The Lion King. It’s gonna be great Danno.”

Danny says nothing, afraid of interrupting encroaching sleep, but just when he thinks Steve’s down for the count, Steve slurs, “I’m’kay thank you love you.”

The plane jolts. A baby wails. Danny feels Steve’s chest rise and fall, rise and fall.


End file.
